


Weakness

by tielan



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-28
Updated: 2005-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:23:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adamas are her weakness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> My first overt Kara/Lee. Considering it's NC-17, I guess it's a bit more than just 'overt'. This story wanted to be written since it happened in two days, about six hours worth of writing and was finished just before Friday's episode. Then it got a revision afterwards.

He remembers a comment someone - probably Tigh - made in the early days of running from the Cylons. “_Thrace is a weakness on this boat. It’s too bad the Adamas can’t seem to see that._”__

Lee sees it, all right. He just isn’t willing to do anything about it.

Just like he’s not going to do anything about the way she hauls him into the storage closet and doesn’t leave him with the breath or will to argue.

Only part of the reason is because he doesn’t have the breath to argue because her mouth is closed about his and her hands are yanking open his jacket and roaming beneath his tank top.

Something gets swept out of the way. It might be a broom, but he doesn’t care.

These are not the conditions under which Lee Adama imagined sleeping with Kara Thrace, but he’s not picky. Circumstances have changed a lot in the last few weeks. He’ll take what he can get.

And it looks like he’s gonna get laid in a storage closet.

Things crash on the floor, but nothing sounds broken, so he ignores it. He’s too busy hauling the jacket off her shoulders and trying to get enough air so he doesn’t pass out from shock.

The romantic in him wants to take things slow and easy, make her moan.

The pragmatic in him just wants to hear her scream.

Kara’s got him backed against the wall, her fists in his tank top, her hips settled firmly against his. He yanks his mouth away and hauls back on her hair so she can’t get a lock on his throat. “Feeling deprived, Lieutenant?”

If she’s really going to frak him, then it won’t be a free job - for either of them. Lee _will_ get his pound of flesh out of her, one way or the other. Kara _will_ know which Adama she’s frakking. And if they bleed a little from the wounds they inflict on each other, they’re only human in the end.

Her eyes fill with rage and fury, but he knows Kara too well. She wants him and she’ll have him - respect isn’t part of this bargain between them and never has been.

“Shut the frak up, Lee.”

Her hand behind his neck forces his mouth back down to hers. She’s strong. Either that, or Lee’s not really trying to resist. One hand slides down her back, to the base of her spine. There, it reverses direction and takes her tank tops with it.

He grips her breast harder than he intended, but other than a gasp, she doesn’t protest. Her teeth sink into his throat as he rolls her nipple between his fingers, and he grunts as her tongue sucks tingling feeling into his flesh.

Softly, her fingertips skim up his waist, pulling his tops with it. There’s a jingle of dogtags and a momentary metal chill on his chin, before the narrow world of the dimly-lit storeroom returns and the hungry intensity of her gaze.

They slam against the shelving as Lee pushes her back. He doesn’t feel the need to be dominant, but something in him enjoys this directness of desire. He spent his life in indirect confrontation until he came on Galactica; then he learned when to use the gun, when to give the order, when to frak the girl until she can’t think beyond his mouth on her skin.

Salt tingles on his tongue and her fingers clench in his hair as she yanks him up. Her mouth fastens on his, brutal and demanding, and her nipples rub against his chest as his breath catches in his throat.

His pants are tight and they only get tighter when her hand finds his fly. She’s way too experienced at this, but he’s not going to ask questions - not when her hand rubs along his cock and fires every nerve in his body. He thinks he grunts something against her mouth, but thinking is rapidly becoming impossible.

There’s a progression between holding her upright against the shelving and laying her ass down on the floor. Lee’s just fuzzy on the details.

Kara yelps as she hits her head against the floor, and remorse spears through him, hard and fierce as desire, but the next instant, her mouth is back in his. Lee cradles the curve of her skull in his hand, gentling for just a moment, before her fingers dance the length of his erection and he bites down on her lip.

Her clothing is becoming a distraction he doesn’t need.

The waistband of her fatigue pants is in his hands. He’s not as swift with button and fly, but when he slides his fingers between her thighs and brushes her clit on the way, fast becomes a moot point.

Lee’s frakked his share of girls, and he’s never yet met a girl who didn’t want this part of the ride slow. He’s not sure if it’s a relief or a regret to find Kara’s the same.

Seconds pass and the air fills with wet scent. He can hardly breathe for the sight of her arching against his hand. Propped up on one arm over her, Lee watches rose-tipped breasts thrust up towards the ceiling as booted heels kick the floor, and digs his fingers deep into her body as he rolls his thumb over her clit.

“Frak, _Lee_!”

Grim pleasure spikes in his veins as she rolls them over, skin flushed, eyes wild. At least she knows who’s got his fingers in her body.

He digs his fingers in again and watches her lips part and her eyes screw shut. Then her fingers close around his cock again and he thumps his head against the floor. It’s pure explosive sensation as she dances her fingers across him like the way she dances her Viper through the sky. Her mouth stretches in a feral grin as she leans over him. “Payback’s a bitch, Captain.”

Air is sucked into his lungs, incandescent with her hunger and his. He yanks her down, one-handed, feels her hand lock behind his neck, and they’re driving each other insane with mouth and hand and if this goes on much longer, he’s not going to be able to hold out. It’s been too long since he had a woman in his arms, on his cock.

Lee wants in.

She’s gone this far, and Kara’s neither an innocent or a tease.

Her protest is moaned against his mouth as he slides his fingers out, but when she lifts her head, he yanks down her fatigue trousers, exposing the pale sweep of long muscled legs. Understanding dawns, along with reckless hunger - and she kicks away her boots and shoves the trousers down.

He shudders as her belly rubs against his tip, and her grin is pure mischief. She’s going to play with him as long as possible, like a cat toying with its prey.

Frak that.

In pure weight, he’s got the advantage, and he takes it now. Another change of positions and she’s flat on her back with her legs spread wide. Her eyes widen and she almost has the leverage she needs to throw him off, but his hand is between her thighs again, and a moment later he’s sliding home.

Her cry is pleasure, not pain. Lee knows the difference, even through the flushed haze that clouds his vision. It’s been a long time between women. And this is Kara sheathing him, all hot flesh and wet muscle. He nearly blacks out from the pleasure as she arches up against him, dark with desire.

Then his shoulderblades are kissing the cold floor again and she’s riding him, lithe as any dancer.

He manages her name once, hissed between his teeth.

“Kara.”

It’s both benediction and plea.

\--

She never thought he’d say her name like that.

Kara never thought she’d have such a rush of power when he did.

Her fingers clamp down on his, pressing them further into her thighs so that it hurts, pleasure and pain commingled.

Something in her wants his bruises on her skin, proof that this is happening and not a dream. Something in her rages, because she never wanted Lee like this - all desperation and hunger and need. Something in her grieves, because she wanted him slow and sweet, pure pleasure and delight, tenderness and worship in his eyes.

Maybe it’s better this way.

Zak touched her with tenderness; she wouldn’t want to get Lee confused with his brother.

She almost wishes she could believe he was Zak. She wishes things were that simple: she lost one Adama boy, in his absence, the other will do.

Too many differences, two different men, and Zak never touched her like this, with as much anger as desire. Zak felt his way around her body; Lee knows what she wants. No, this is wholly Lee Adama moving between her thighs in a rhythm that’s driving her wild, no hint of his brother at all.

Kara’s glad of it. Even if it confirms just how screwed up she really is.

She rides him slow because she wants to watch him beneath her. He lets her ride slow because he’s Lee.

Still, he bucks against her for a few heartbeats, changing the pace of their motion. Stars burst in her vision, like a Cylon raider going down in flames.

Is she going down in flames?

Her hands span his chest, thumbs on the hard ridges of abdominal muscle and she leans down as his hands come up to cup her breasts. She presses her breasts into his hands so her nipples catch in the clefts between his fingers and the soft stimulation in concert with the break in their rhythm nearly sends her over the edge.

Usually, Kara just wants release. She’ll take her own pleasure and let the guy take his; that’s the deal with frakking her. A couple of men have been the exception; this is one of the few, moving beneath her in sensuous undulation. She wants him fast and hard, and she wants him slow and lingering, because she’s desperately afraid that this first will also be the last.

The muscle beneath her hands contracts as he raises his body up. Then, his mouth is on her exposed throat, kissing, biting, tasting, stroking. Kara lets go of thought, lets her instincts take over. Her fingers close around his shoulders, her fingertips run down his bicep, and she revels in the coiled strength of his muscles.

Then she presses her hips down on him in a deeper angle, feels the slick, hot length of him moving in and out of her, and clenches around him, just to watch him groan.

“Frakkit, Kara!” The words are muffled against her throat, and nearly undoes her, but she grins triumphantly as she tosses her head and scrapes back sweat-soaked hair from her forehead. Then triumph dies as he lifts his face from her shoulder and she sees his answering grin and the look in his eyes that is focused wholly on her.

Lee looks at her with affection and desire, a little wonder, and the slow, dark warmth of tenderness. And she feels herself falling in the memory of that look.

The eyes were dark, not green, and the face was softer, younger, without the bitterness of his brother, but Zak looked at her this way.

She lost Zak.

How much easier would it be to lose Lee?

Her nerves tingle in delicate prescience of pleasure, and he claims her mouth as she shivers against him. His lips drag at hers, and she bites down hard as orgasm takes her and hears his yelp rattle her bones.

Pleasure and pain.

But not yet finished. He’s still moving in her, and she pushes him back so she can see his face as he comes. The light cascades down over the fine planes of his face, and he shivers against her hips, and gasps for air as she cradles his head in her hands, but she keeps riding him, too involved in the motion to stop.

His hands close around her waist, but his eyes never leave her face as his body shudders and writhes in ecstacy.

And Kara is caught in his gaze, trapped in his pleasure - in the pleasure he takes in her body.

It’s not the polite expression he brings out as the model officer, but the one he gets when his blood is up and he’s just carried off something he never thought he could. He had that look after the insurrection on the _Astral Queen_, after taking the telium from the Cylons, after the fight with Grimes and Valance on _Cloud Nine_.

She’s seen that look in the eyes of hundreds of pilots. It’s a look of triumph and celebration: the belief that they can shoot to kill, play to win, and laugh at the galaxy while they’re doing it.

Lee lifts his head from the floor and grins at her with the light of battle in his eyes and a fine sheen of sweat gleaming hard on his skin and panic overtakes her. She can’t breathe. She needs to fight. She wants to run, _now_.

If she doesn’t, if she stays, she risks losing the memory of this moment to something else - something more familiar to her in the aftermath of sex.

Tomorrow, will he look at her with the bitter disgust that was all she could get from him after she frakked Dr. Baltar?

She rests atop him, astride him, not looking in his eye. The harsh noise of his breathing mingles with the thunder of blood in her veins and the silence of the storeroom takes precedence again.

A fine sheen of sweat gleams hard across his bare skin and she wants to lick it off, every drop, but she can’t bring herself to move. One finger reaches up, trails down her throat, brushes the side of her breast. Kara manages a smile, but it falls short of the full grin, and she sees the doubts creep in.

She’s off him in a moment, before doubt can turn to bitterness. There’s no leeway between them, no forgiveness for what they’ve done - with each other and to each other. Some mornings after are easier for the lack of history; this one is pregnant for all their history behind it.

They dress in silence, and she feels his resentment as he yanks up his trousers and hauls on his tank top again. Her jacket is half on when he speaks from behind her. “So that’s it?”

She looks back at him with the wariness she learned years ago, knowing that the aftermath could never match the sex. “What did you expect, Lee?”

Kara doesn’t expect his hands on her shoulder, spinning her around until her spine hits the shelving again. She doesn’t expect his mouth on hers, moving softly, drawing her out.

Things that she won’t call tears sting her eyes, because he doesn’t mean this as a punishment, or an anticipation of the next hurried frak in some other out-of-the-way place. That’s not Lee any more than it was his brother.

And when he breaks it off, there’s a hint of sadness in his expression as he turns away. Just a hint.

Adrenaline rises in her as he walks to the door. Kara doesn’t need to be told that he’ll never speak of this again. She doesn’t need to be told that this once was an aberration and the next time they meet, they’ll be Captain Adama and Lieutenant Thrace, and nothing more.

She doesn’t know what it is that causes her to grab him and slam him up against the door. “Frak you, Lee! Do you think this is easy?”

He snarls back with the ferocity he keeps hidden beneath his quiet exterior. “I think you’re running away again, Kara. Same way you always do.”

That stings. She remembers Major Henderson, Dr. Baltar, Anders - in her own way, she ran from them all. There’s nowhere to run from Lee.

“Then why do you let me?”

Again the bitter smile flashes across his features. “Because once the chase is over, you’re not interested anymore.”

Kara wants to tell him that’s not true. She wants to tell him that this is different. She wants him to hold on, to fight, to anchor her.

She can’t. The words won’t come to her mouth, and even if she denied it, it would be a lie.

Her fingers clench in his tank top, and she yanks him in to her.

This kiss is not about sex. It’s not about attraction or desire, either. Those things are there in her relationship with Lee, but they’re not the whole of it. Or even the half of it.

He’s still for too long, and she’s almost given up, when he comes to life beneath her mouth. Passion and tenderness, and the fire that runs beneath the good little military son that he pretends to be.

Kara grins against his mouth.

It seems Adamas are her weakness, one way or another, and she is theirs.

Lee is no exception.

\- **fin** -


End file.
